Died on May 15, 1886
The places that show up most in her writings are in the
New England states.
Her personal life remains to be a mystery. Potential love affairs could be Reverend Charles Wadsworth, and Samuel Bowles. Her dad and she never really had a good relationship and she wrote a poem that said that she never had a mother. Her dad died in 1874 and her mom died of a stroke in 1882. Another possible lover was Judge Otis lord he was 18 years older.
She attended Amherst Academy from 1834-47 and Mount Holyoke Female Seminary 1847-48.
John Keats and Elizabeth Barrett Browning are the people who first inspired Dickinson.
The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation which included use of random capitalism and dashes.
She never married the man that she loved. Dickinson was troubled from a young age by the "deepening menace" of death, especially the deaths of those who were close to her. When Sophia Holland, her second cousin and a close friend, grew ill from typhus and died in April, 1844, Emily was traumatized. Recalling the incident two years later, Emily wrote that "it seemed to me I should die too if I could not be permitted to watch over her or even look at her face."
Only 7 of the 1800 were published all poems are in the Spring Field Republican
She suffered of Bright’s disease for 2 years then died. She inspired many female writers.
POEMS THE CHARIOT
Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 't is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
I FELT A FUNERAL
I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
My mind was going numb
And then I heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll
,As all the heavens were a bell,
And being, but an ear,
And I and Silence some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here.
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down -And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing - then -
I HAD BEEN HUNGRY
I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine.
'T was this on tables I had seen
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.
I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.
The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,--
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.
Died on May 15, 1886
The places that show up most in her writings are in the
New England states.
Her personal life remains to be a mystery. Potential love affairs could be Reverend Charles Wadsworth, and Samuel Bowles. Her dad and she never really had a good relationship and she wrote a poem that said that she never had a mother. Her dad died in 1874 and her mom died of a stroke in 1882. Another possible lover was Judge Otis lord he was 18 years older.
She attended Amherst Academy from 1834-47 and Mount Holyoke Female Seminary 1847-48.
John Keats and Elizabeth Barrett Browning are the people who first inspired Dickinson.
The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation which included use of random capitalism and dashes.
She never married the man that she loved. Dickinson was troubled from a young age by the "deepening menace" of death, especially the deaths of those who were close to her. When Sophia Holland, her second cousin and a close friend, grew ill from typhus and died in April, 1844, Emily was traumatized. Recalling the incident two years later, Emily wrote that "it seemed to me I should die too if I could not be permitted to watch over her or even look at her face."
Only 7 of the 1800 were published all poems are in the Spring Field Republican
She suffered of Bright’s disease for 2 years then died. She inspired many female writers.
POEMS
THE CHARIOT
Because I could not stop for Death,
he kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 't is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
I FELT A FUNERAL
I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
My mind was going numb
And then I heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll
,As all the heavens were a bell,
And being, but an ear,
And I and Silence some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here.
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down -And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing - then -
I HAD BEEN HUNGRY
I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine.
'T was this on tables I had seen
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.
I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.
The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,--
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.